By Maxime Dobremel
In Lecce, baroque capital of PugliaA five-hundred-year-old palace opens onto the cathedral square. Behind its golden stone walls, Miriam and Lionel have shaped, chapter after chapter, the story of a love for a region that one had long fled and that the other helped her rediscover. We settled in Palazzo Maresgalloand understood in a few hours why the word hotel seems almost too small there.
Lecce, the golden city of Salento
Before becoming a tourist destination, the Salento was initially a major trading post. From the 16th century onwards, the nearby port of Gallipoli It became the largest European trading center for olive oil, but not the one you might imagine: a large portion was used for lighting rather than food, shipped in barrels to Paris, London, Vienna, and Amsterdam. In the 18th century, nine out of every ten liters exported by the region were used to light the streets and salons of major capitals: Puglia wasn't feeding Europe, it was illuminating it. Then came electricity at the end of the 19th century, and this market disappeared, leaving the region impoverished for nearly a century, before tourism changed everything in the last twenty years.
Everything in Lecce seems to be made of the same material: Lecce stoneThis blond limestone, which can be worked like soft wood and takes on an almost golden hue at sunset, was once used by local sculptors as the "opera de cuteddu," the knife work: facades chiseled with flowers, fruits, figures and coats of arms, in a profusion that gave its name to a distinct style, the Lecce Baroque.
The historic center closes behind three monumental gates, vestiges of a city that was fortified for a long time. In the evening, the streets become almost entirely pedestrianized, terraces spill onto the cobblestones, and one quickly understands why Southern Italians almost never dine at home: here, going out is a matter of...lifestyle, not an option.
In the heart of this city, once nicknamed the church city, the Piazza del Duomo It retains a telling peculiarity: it has belonged not to the municipality but to the archbishopric for centuries, and remains closed on three sides and open on only one, like the courtyard of a private palace. It is precisely there, directly opposite the cathedral, that the Palazzo Maresgallo.
Access to Lecce remains surprisingly simple considering the wealth that awaits there: a direct flight from Paris-Orly lands in Brindisi in just over two hours, and then a forty-minute drive is all it takes to reach the capital of Salento.
Miriam and Lionel: a love story that became a palace
Miriam is the granddaughter of a Pugliese, as those born in Puglia are called, but as a child, she hated visiting her grandmother here: the heat, the boredom, the obligation. It took adulthood for her to rediscover this land with fresh eyes—its architecture, its art, its cuisine, its coastline, its people—until she truly fell in love with it. With her husband Lionel, a renowned architect, she dreamed of a palazzo where they could welcome their friends and family. In 2017, the opportunity arose: a five-hundred-year-old palazzo, built in 1526, right across from the Piazza del Duomo.
The couple completely renovated it, and it was there that their love affair with the region became evident in every room. Lionel carefully preserved the 15th-century vaulted ceilings, typical of Lecce, and used trompe-l'œil to give depth to the salons. Miriam, for her part, chose the art that would adorn the spaces with the same exacting standards: nothing generic, everything was local. The result resembles no other decor.Hotel : it is a taste, told piece by piece, by two people who know and love each craftsman they exhibit.
It was only after the pandemic that Miriam and Lionel decided to open their home to travelers. With only twelve suites, the word "hotel" seems almost too small for the experience it offers. What is most striking is not the decor, however refined it may be: it is Miriam's own attentiveness, as she stops to speak with each guest, takes a genuine interest in their story, and makes time for them.
Twelve suites, one single taste
Twelve suites have been created, surrounded by generous communal spaces: lounges, shared kitchens, a garden with a swimming pool, and above all, a rooftop terrace suspended above the city's rooftops. Back when the palazzo still belonged to the local aristocracy, this terrace was reserved solely for the staff, who used it to dry laundry and vegetables. No one from the house ever went up there. Today, it has become the heart of the house, where, at sunset, guests sip a signature cocktail made with pineapple, lemon, almond, and rum, enhanced with a mint leaf that is crushed to release its aroma, at tables inlaid with ceramics salvaged from old Lecce houses.
Each room tells a story through a piece of local art. In the Venus Suite, a pair of Roman and Greek sculptures coexist with a statue hidden in the library, an ambiguous homage to a matriarchal society where women, behind the scenes, made all the decisions, yet remained trapped in a social role as soon as they became mothers. Two columns frame it, one ancient, the other contemporary, a subtle reminder that women have always been the pillars of this society. Further on, the Euphoria Suite conceals a wooden ceiling, a rarity in Lecce, in what was once the staff quarters.
On the ceiling of one of the lounges, a fresco pays homage to the pizzicaThis dance, which takes its name from the verb "pincer" (to pinch), is a testament to the enduring power of the spider's bite. Legend has it that a spider bite once plunged women working in the olive oil and tobacco fields into a fever that only dance could soothe. Once cured, the woman, having been bitten, would dance, a veil in hand, choosing with her gaze the man she would invite to join her, in a procession that, over time, became a scene of seduction. The ceiling faithfully reproduces this scene, with several men dancing around a single woman who selects her partner with her eyes, making the fresco all the more unique given that the artist's figures are usually androgynous.
Breakfast, which can be enjoyed in the garden, dining room, or kitchen, changes every morning, offering both sweet and savory options, always homemade. One thing, however, never changes: the pasticciotto LeccesePrepared from scratch every morning. The palace could have become a popular spot for the residents of Lecce themselves. Miriam and Lionel made a different choice: to preserve a bubble reserved for their guests, so that each stay remains, without fail, exceptional.
Paper and clay: two craftswomen from Salento
In the corridors and suites of the Palazzo, two artisanal gestures tell the story of Salento better than a long speech.
The first is that of paper. Lacking the means to finance the bronze or marble statues demanded by the countless churches built in the 17th and 18th centuries, the artisans of Lecce invented the cartapesta: a framework of iron and straw, covered with layers of paper glued with flour paste, then sculpted and painted with oil, a gesture that rivals wood or stone for a fraction of the cost and weight. Francesca Carallo He perpetuates this tradition in his workshop in the historic center, using entirely natural, cellulose-free paper and an old-fashioned glue made of water and flour. His signature pieces include a column of paper mushrooms and creations like Alma, petals mounted on stems that sway in the wind, most often white, or, in one variation, a red reminiscent of poppies. Several of his works now grace the suites and corridors of the Palazzo Maresgallo.
The other gesture is that of the earth. Apulian ceramics draw their material from clay mixed with that of neighboring Sicily, shaped by hand for centuries, originally for everyday objects before becoming, over time, an art form in its own right. In his eight-hundred-year-old workshop, Ilaria Luna She perpetuates this tradition entirely by hand, without molds or digital printing. A historian of ceramics and the Arab culture that nurtured this craft, she collaborates with hotels and properties in Salento, including the Palazzo Maresgallo, on bespoke creations designed in collaboration with the architects and owners. Her pieces can even be found on the rooftop tables, inlaid with ceramics salvaged from old Lecce houses. The most emblematic motif of this land remains the pumo, a flower bud surrounded by acanthus leaves, a symbol of prosperity that tradition forbids one from bestowing upon oneself.
The Palazzo Maresgallo is not limited to its suites. In the evening, just a few minutes' walk away, the historic center of Lecce unfolds its own menu of restaurants, from the elegant rustic to Cozze & Gin from the unclassifiable cuisine of the Duo restaurant, to the literary flavors of Gusto LiberrimaBut it is to the palace that we return each evening, to meet Miriam, the rooftop and that rare feeling of being at home in someone else's house.
At the end of the stay, what remains is not so much the memory of a setting, however well-crafted, but a certain way of looking at a city and its region: through the eyes of two people who have chosen to build their lives there, and who take, every day, the time to make those who pass through the door love it.
Photos: Maxime Dobremel
